


RIP

by avienexjel



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt Tony Stark, Multi, Nick Fury Lies, Protective Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avienexjel/pseuds/avienexjel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson has been dead for four months.<br/>Phil Coulson was Tony Stark's fiancée.<br/>Phil Coulson walks through the front door.<br/>Phil Coulson is not dead and Tony is in mourning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grievances

**one**

Phil Coulson's funeral is today, and Tony can't bring himself to go. Instead, he puts the workshop on lockdown so that nobody but him can enter and crawls into the farthest corner of the room to cry. He hasn't sobbed like this in a long time. There were a few tears when Rhodey left him for the military, and he certainly cried in Afghanistan. But sobbing? No, Tony Stark doesn't do sobbing. And yet, here are the great big blubbering tears streaming down his face. The last time he was this broken, this hurt, was when Jarvis--the real one, not his AI--died. That, that was like a bullet to the head.

And this pain, the pain he is feeling right now as he clamps his palm to his mouth to stifle his sobs, is perhaps a million times worse than a bullet. Tony buries his head in his grease-stained, jean-clad knees, shoulders shaking, and tries to erase Phil from his memories. It doesn't work, because the agent is in every single one. He remembers the first time they met far too well. Everyone assumes that Coulson had never seen Tony before, based on his poker face and formal greetings to the billionaire, but in truth, they had met many, many times. Tony had been drunk, and numb, and so dizzy from liquor that he had knelt to the sidewalk in pouring rain and just...stayed like that. Howard and Maria Stark had just died the very past night, and while Howard was a cold shell of a man to his son, Maria Stark was as loving and caring as a mother should be. And Tony missed her for it. Phil had been heading to SHIELD, prepared to report to Fury, when he saw the teen on his knees and soaked from the spray of passing cars and the coal-black clouds overhead.

Phil was younger then, with eyes that had still faint laugh lines and skin smoothed by the youth of age. He had gently helped the nearly incoherent, and newly orphaned, boy into the backseat of his car and instead headed straight home. At first, Tony had resisted his help, but soon, accepted that Phil wouldn't hurt him and instead curled up on his bed in the cramped apartment and went to sleep. Later on, Tony would awaken with nightmares of his mother trapped under steel, crying and bleeding, smoke rising from the crushed front of the car. Phil would be there to help him, to hold him, all through the night.

In the morning, Tony dried his eyes and exited the apartment with a rigid back and a hard line for a mouth, with little more than a rough "Thanks" thrown to Coulson before the door closed shut. But Phil, still concerned about a boy he had never met once before in his life, had given Tony his email and three years later, received his first message from a lost person who didn't know what to do with his life and was buckling fast under the weight of expectations.

The romance had eventually bloomed, and for a while, things had been good. Even with the palladium poisoning and Afghanistan and everything else, Tony Stark could even say that he was happy. He had even proposed to the man and it was accepted with a warm smile and teary but joyful eyes. But now...now Phil Coulson, the only man Tony has truly ever wanted to spend the rest of his life with, is gone, rotting in a decorative black casket when Tony knows that his fiancée would have much rather preferred honey brown oak, nice but simple. Honey brown like your eyes, Phil would have said, and Tony clenches his eyes shut as if that could even come close to wiping all his pain away.

The engineer sheds a few more soft-falling tears before he stands, glancing at himself in a sheet of polished metal. Even in the dull reflection, he can see the red of his eyes, the dark shadows, the way skin seems to hang off his cheekbones in a corpse-like way. His quips and snarks have kept the rest of the Avengers reassured well enough that Tony is fine, absolutely positively without-a-doubt fine, even though Bruce seems to be a little more suspicious every time he sees Tony in his bedraggled state.

 _I want you to be happy, love,_ Phil's voice murmurs in his mind. He sounds as sweet and soft and gentle as the last time they had a moment alone together. _Don't mourn me. The rest of your team is getting worried about you._

Tony shakes his head wildly, can feel his mind pulsing against his skull like a heartbeat. "I...I can't," he mumbles brokenly.

 _You're so strong, Tony,_ Phil says back. Tony feels floaty, like he's in a dream or something. _But it's okay to let them know that you're hurting. It's not good to be strong all the time._

"I want you though!" Tony cries, muffling his hiccups as he stuffs his wrist to his mouth. _Breathe in, breathe out,_ Phil tells him. _You're dying in here. Do you think I want you to be unhappy?_ Tony stops crying as hard at this thought. He's acting awfully like a child, he knows, but he can't help it.

 _No, I don't,_ Phil continues in his soft voice. _You need food. Water. Something else besides engine grease and motor oil. Please don't let yourself fade away because of me._

Tony is like Play-Doh when it comes to Phil, like wet clay. He'll do anything the man asks, even if it's just a hallucinatory voice in his head playacting like the dead agent he loves and misses so much.

"Okay," he whispers quietly, and struggles to stand. Wiping stray wetness off his cheeks with a rag that looks rather blackened, he sucks in a breath and counts them one, two, three. That's what Phil always told him to do every time he had a panic attack back when his fiancée was still alive. _Four, five, six..._

Tony's eyes and nose burn, but he ignores the feeling. He's a master at keeping his emotions under control when needed, and he knows his teammates will only belittle him for the love he has for a man four months dead.

 

.+.

 

  
Everyone is, to say the least, surprised when none other than Tony Stark comes striding into the kitchen, a cocky smirk plastered onto his face. "Miss me?" the billionaire says confidently as he plucks an apple from the fruit basket placed strategically in the middle of the counter.

"You look awful," Natasha comments as she studies the man's worn face. To anyone else, she would seem only as if she were being blunt, but Clint knows better. He can see it in her eyes that she thinks there is something wrong with Stark. Natasha is a professional when it comes to masking her thoughts--she has to be, she's a spy anyhow--but Clint has grown to know her like the back of his hand. And he's pretty sure he knows what the back of his hand looks like.

Stark just gives her his signature eye roll--now that the archer thinks about it, the guy has a LOT of signature looks--and takes a bite of the rosy red apple balanced precariously on the tips of his fingers. The loud crunch and slurping noise that follows echoes in the room. Steve crinkles his nose at the disgusting sound, but says nothing.

"If you've seen the things I've been doing, you'd know why I'm so...dirty," Stark banters, but the signature twinkle in his eyes isn't there this time. They look dull, the engineer himself faded like an old photograph.

"You look like you haven't slept in a million years," Bruce interjects, looking like he wants to say more but is resisting.

"Stark, what's going on?" Steve says, narrowing his eyes at the billionaire. In reply, the man just wearily scrubs at his eyes with a palm that probably hasn't seen soap since the last Ice Age.

"I need coffee, you all are talking to me, and I'm getting a migraine." He pushes past the aggravated supersoldier and pours himself a cup before downing it all in three swallows. Snagging a Saran-wrapped sandwich from off the countertop, Tony moves to leave. Clint steps in front of him, bodily blocking the engineer's only escape.

"We're worried about you, because lately you've just been holed up in your workshop, and today you put it on lockdown." Tony notices with a painful jolt that the archer is still wearing his black dress clothing.

Steve snorts. "There's nothing to be worried about. Stark's just being the selfish, uncaring asshole he's always been." The blonde shoulders forward and stares the smaller man down, blue eyes cold. "So selfish that you couldn't even bother to come to Coulson's funeral, huh?" Natasha and Clint both notice Stark's miniature flinch, but Steve barrels on, apparently unaware: "I thought you'd at least have the decency to show up for a man who sacrificed himself for US. But...I'll admit it--I was wrong. You have no respect for anyone but yourself. I'd be surprised if anyone except for your CEO Pepper showed up to YOUR funeral."

Stark sucks in a breath and steps back. "Steve," Clint says, but his voice is no match for the supersoldier's increasing temper.

"That's probably the first time you've ever lost a soldier, huh," Steve says icily. "Well, we all are soldiers. So you'd better get used to Coulson being gone, because if you wouldn't even show up to his funeral, I get the feeling that not many people have been sticking around for you."

 

.+.

 

  
Tony feels raw pain as Steve speaks those words. It's like a slap in the face, a punch to the gut. What hurts most of all, though, is the knowledge that Steve is right. Howard knew something was wrong with him from the time he was born, or he would have cared more about Tony, right? For all that Maria Stark was, there were times that she just didn't want to talk to her son, and instead pushed him onto Jarvis' lap instead. Edwin Jarvis, Tony's first father figure, left him when Tony was fourteen. The butler allegedly died of cancer, but death is a form of leaving anyway. Then there was Yinsen with the terrorist group the Ten Rings, Obadiah (the one he trusted most), Rhodey who had betrayed him for the government at one point in time. Pepper who ditched him as he was slowly dying of palladium poisoning--not that she knew about it, but her absence was like a knife wound anyway--and now Phil Coulson, as well as the rest of the Avengers because they don't seem to like him very much except for Thor, who's on a different planet.

"Shut up, Rogers," he says, flinching when he hears his voice come out raw and hoarse. He clears his throat. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough to realize that you're just a selfish child who will never have any regards for anyone but yourself. If anyone actually got close enough to love you, they'd leave you after seeing how damn cowardly you are." That hits way too close to home, and Tony closes his eyes, scrunches them tight.

"Don't say that ever again, Rogers." His voice is brittle, more like a hollow whisper than the firm demand he wants it to be.

"Or what?" He can feel Steve's presence looming in front of him. He looks up to see the blonde shaking his head. "I don't see how anyone can put up with you. Coulson is dead, Tony! And you don't even care."

That's what pushes Tony past the breaking point, off the cliff into utmost despair and agony. He sinks to his knees, ignoring Steve's bewildered stare and Bruce's concerned one and then the tears are just rushing out, flooding his vision and making everything seem blurry and pale.

Somewhere, a door opens, and there's a pattering of footsteps rushing into the room--his named shouted: "Tony!", and "What's going on? What did you do?!"--and then the familiar scent of sandalwood and deodorant and Phil floods him, calm and comforting and painful all at once. Arms wrap around him and Tony sobs harder, burying his snotty face into a suit jacket and the hollow of someone's throat. There's more commotion as a familiar voice says soothingly, "Baby, it's okay. Love, I'm here. Tony, Tony. I've missed you so much and I'm sorry I couldn't be here earlier. I'm sorry. I rushed straight out of the hospital as soon as I was well enough."

There's a voice that sounds like Bruce's. "We didn't...we didn't know you were alive. There was a funeral in your honor today."

The man holding Tony tightens his grip around the billionaire's quivering body. "I'm going to kill Fury once I see him again." Then the mouth is closer, lips brushing against Tony's ear and sending sharp tingles through his body. "Shh. It's okay. I'm here now."

"Phil?" Tony whispers brokenly. "You're not real, you're just here to haunt me, you're already dead--"

"No." Lips press gently against lips. "Fury lied. I'm here now. You never have to worry about me leaving, ever again."

For the first time, Tony looks up into the clear brown eyes of a man he's sobbed about every day for four months straight. Then he collapses into the arms of the agent he's missed so much, and continues to cry.


	2. Lectures, Love, and Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil gets hella angry (well, as hella angry as Phil Coulson gets).  
> Tony gets hella sad before becoming hella happy.  
> Steve is ashamed.

**two**

Tony doesn’t remember heading back to his room, the room he’s barely stepped foot in since Phil’s disappearance.  He somewhat remembers a hand on his back and another on his stomach, a man’s soft voice whispering comforting nothings into his ear.  The wisps of memory he still has reminds him of leaning over the toilet, gripping the porcelain seat, retching while someone strokes his hair and keeps him from collapsing over.

Tony rolls over, vaguely aware that now he’s wearing fresh clothing and that there’s something warm covering him.  Blearily, he opens his eyes to find a mound of blankets piled on him.  His mouth tastes gross, his head is pounding, and he really needs a drink--

And then the rest of his memory comes flooding back.   _ “Fuck.”   _ Tony bolts upright in bed, eyes wide.  The name  _ Phil  _ is still stuck in his throat like the excess water in your lungs that comes from almost drowning.

Sure enough, his suite is empty.  No Phil, no warm brown eyes, no soft, amused smile.  “Nope nope nope,” Tony says into the empty space.  “I am  _ not  _ crying again.  Suck it up, Stark.”

Briefly, he wonders who took the time to bring him upstairs and clothe him and stay with him even when he was puking his guts out, but then shakes the thought from his mind.  He knows none of the Avengers could possibly care about his wellbeing enough to have to deal with grieving incoherent Tony.  He probably crawled into bed by himself, and the memories of a phantom person are just his mind craving comfort.

Slowly, Tony gets out of bed and goes to the restroom.  After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, he feels a little bit better.  The man in the mirror above his sink doesn’t look like Tony Stark.  He looks...crumpled, like a paper doll that’s been played with too many times.  Tony scrubs a hand over his face, and then goes back to bed.  “Hey JARVIS, what, what time is it?” he mumbles.

“Ten am, Sir, although I would highly suggest that you go downstairs as--”

“JARVIS, mute,” Tony says tiredly.  He doesn’t want to think, because for the past few months, all he’s been doing is thinking too much.  He takes his tablet off his bedside table and turns it on, beginning to work with the schematics of Clint’s new explosive arrows.  Working always helps him calm down, and soon enough, Tony’s immersed in equations and numbers and calculations, his pain forced into a little box in the back of his mind.

.+.

As soon as Phil had woken up, he checked on Tony.  Even in sleep, the man’s face looked worn and his eyebrows were drawn together.  Tony slurred something indecipherable and began to thrash around, jaw clenching.  “Shh,” Phil murmured.  “It’s okay.  I’m here, Tony.  I’m here.”  Almost immediately, Tony’s breathing began to even out again and his face slackened.  As soon as he knew his lover--his  _ husband-- _ was okay, Phil slipped out of bed.  “JARVIS, call all the Avengers to the main living room,” he commanded.  JARVIS had showed him the feed of Captain America  _ (I can’t believe he used to be my idol)  _ taunting Tony yesterday, and the rest of the Avengers just fucking standing there while his husband had to take the insults until he finally broke down.

“Of course, Agent Coulson,” the AI replied, with a note of pride in the robotic voice.

“Like I said, it’s Phil.”  Phil shot a weary smile at one of the cameras he knew was perched in the corner of the room.

In a couple of minutes, all the Avengers had made their way down to the living room.  Steve was confused and a little wary of what Coulson would want them down here for, but he had an inkling.  It was going to be about Tony, wasn’t it?  While Steve could understand that Tony was a hero for taking that nuke into the portal four months ago, he also didn’t get what Coulson saw in him.  How could Coulson idolize Captain America but still love Iron Man?  It didn’t make sense.

As soon as he saw Coulson, he said, “With all due respect sir, I apologize for hurting Tony yesterday, but I didn’t know he was going to break down like that.  Stark is a little...well, you know how he is, he’s your...boyfriend.  He doesn’t tell us anything, so I never expected him to take things so harshly.”

Steve, to say the least, wasn’t prepared at all for the harsh uppercut that slammed into his jaw.  He knew it’d leave a bruise as soon as Coulson’s knuckles glanced off the bone.  The agent was immediately in his face, glaring at him--a very unusual look for someone who was normally so calm and unruffled.  After a few seconds, Coulson rocked back on his heels, giving Steve more space.  The placid expression on his face was firmly back in place.

“Tony is my husband, firstly.  Let’s make that clear,” Phil said calmly.  “Secondly, if you  _ ever  _ speak to  _ anyone  _ like that again--not just Tony--then I will fuck you up in ways you can’t imagine.  Thirdly, it disgusts me that I used to idolize you.  You always say that you stand up for the little guy against bullies, Captain, but it seems to me that you yourself are the bully.  Fourthly”--Phil turned to regard all the other Avengers (excluding Thor, who was still on Asgard)--“you all are to blame as well.  While Rogers berated  _ my  _ husband, taunting him until Tony was  _ crying _ \--and Tony never cries--you all just stood there and watched.  Banner, Tony thinks very highly of you, yet you stood there and didn’t say a word.  I understand that you aren’t confrontational.  But let me say this: you are extremely lucky that Tony is so nice.   _ Too  _ nice, in fact.  He’s probably already forgiven every one of you, even Steve.”

“Sir,” Steve said, and at least had the grace to look a little ashamed, “we just didn’t know that Stark--Tony--was married.  Married to you.  I thought that since he didn’t attend your funeral, he just didn’t care.”

Phil spoke very slowly and deliberately, his anger pulsing beneath his skin.  “So you thought that because Tony didn’t care, it was okay to tell him that everyone would leave him and no one would ever love him?”

“I--I didn’t say that,” Steve said.  “I wouldn’t say that to Tony!”

“JARVIS, please play the conversation between Rogers and Tony yesterday in the kitchen.

Instantly, Steve’s voice echoed throughout the silent room.  "There's nothing to be worried about. Stark's just being the selfish, uncaring asshole he's always been.  So selfish that you couldn't even bother to come to Coulson's funeral, huh?  I thought you'd at least have the decency to show up for a man who sacrificed himself for US. But...I'll admit it--I was wrong. You have no respect for anyone but yourself. I'd be surprised if anyone except for your CEO Pepper showed up to YOUR funeral."

“Steve,” they heard Clint say hesitantly in the background, but then Steve’s voice continued.

"That's probably the first time you've ever lost a soldier, huh.  Well, we all are soldiers. So you'd better get used to Coulson being gone, because if you wouldn't even show up to his funeral, I get the feeling that not many people have been sticking around for you."

"Shut up, Rogers.  You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough to realize that you're just a selfish child who will never have any regards for anyone but yourself. If anyone actually got close enough to love you, they'd leave you after seeing--”

“Okay, okay!” Steve said a little desperately.  “I was really mean, I know that now, but--”

Phil cut him off effectively by forcing his face right into Steve’s.  “There are no buts, Captain.  You made Tony  _ cry,  _ and you haven’t even tried to apologize since.  I wouldn’t care if Tony threw you out of the Tower right now, even though I know he won’t because that’s just the kind of person Tony is.  Always trying to make people  _ happy.” _

Steve throws out one last barb, something to save his quickly-dying pride.  “I just thought he’d be more like Howard,” he defended himself weakly.

Coulson’s jaw tensed.  “Howard Stark was a neglectful asshole who never bothered to pay attention to Tony at all.  That man was cold and calculating on his best days and drunk off his ass on his worst.  So don’t you ever talk to Tony, or anybody else, like that ever again, or I will  _ end  _ your role as Captain America.”  He turned his gaze on the rest of the Avengers.  Even Natasha seemed to cower beneath the power of his stare.  “I really hope you manage to prove you aren’t complete assholes to Tony and I in the future.”  Phil took another breath, and then continued to lecture the Avengers, a smirk beneath his calm expression.  

.+.

When Tony finishes Clint’s new arrows, he realizes he’s starving and drags himself out of bed.   _ Okay Tony, the kitchen will be empty.  Don’t think about what happened yesterday.  Steve won’t be there today.   _

“JARVIS, where are the rest of the Avengers?”

“In the living room, Sir,” JARVIS says promptly.  There’s a miniscule hesitation.  “Sir, you may want to head there right now.  There is something that would lighten your mood if you would take the time to see it.”

Tony shakes his head.  “I don’t want to do anything involving the Avengers right now,” he says, and sighs.  “They don’t want me there anyway I bet.  Alert me if there’s a call for the Avengers to assemble, but otherwise, nothing about Steve and the rest of them.  All right?”

“Sir,” JARVIS begins, but Tony cuts him off.   _ “JARVIS,”  _ he says once, tiredly, and the AI falls silent.  

He takes the elevator down and pads down the hallway, wondering what all of the Avengers could possibly be doing in the living room together.   _ Probably talking about me,  _ he thinks bitterly,  _ laughing about how fucking weak I looked yesterday.   _

He tenses as he hears Steve’s voice filtering through the walls, but then stops when he listens to just what the supersoldier is saying.  “I know, sir.  I was wrong.”

“Wrong isn’t enough,” the man talking to Steve says.  “I expect a very nice apology.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says.  

“To  _ Tony,”  _ the man says coldly, and Tony freezes.  That voice--he heard that voice yesterday in the kitchen, and sometime in his dreams, but…  No.  No.  Phil is dead.  How many times does he have to go through thinking his husband’s alive only to be hit with the bone crushing reality?  He’s not falling for this again.  No no no.

Tony peers into the living room, and he sees Phil just as the man turns away from Steve with cold, cold eyes.  “Never again, Rogers.  And that goes for the rest of you,” Phil Coulson says strictly.  “Now, I’m going to go back to my room and check on Tony, because he’s probably awake by now and beating himself up about what happened yesterday.  But if I ever hear a bad word about my husband, the consequences will not be pretty.”

“Phil,” Tony says, and he thinks he’s beginning to cry again.   _ Oh God, Howard would have a riot if he knew I cried twice in two days. _

Phil turns and his eyes soften.  “I’m sorry you had to hear that, baby,” he says, making his way over and taking Tony into his arms.

Natasha and Clint are the first to leave.  The two assassins give Tony a nod that manages to convey their guilt about what happened, and Tony nods back.  Bruce leaves next, whispering, “I’m so sorry, Tony.  I’ll be waiting for you in the lab, if you want to come.”  The billionaire smiles a little into his agent’s shoulder.  “How could I miss getting to hang out with my science bro?”

Bruce smiles back gratefully and leaves, shoulders a tiny bit less hunched.

Steve is the last to depart, hanging back with an ashamed expression on his face.  “God, Tony.  I would understand if you never forgave me.  I was really harsh yesterday.”  Phil shoots him a look.  “And I--I was wrong.”  Steve sighs, holds out his hand.  “I’d like to start again, if that sounds good to you.”

Tony takes his hand cautiously.  “This doesn’t change anything, Rogers,” he says simply.  “But I’d like to start again too.”

Finally, the couple is alone in the living room.  Phil takes his lover’s hand in his own.  Tony notices the green patches that have already spread across Phil’s knuckles and frowns slightly.  “What happened?” he murmurs into the space between his husband’s ear and the start of his shoulder.

“I may have punched Captain America,” Phil says, and Tony can hear the smile in his voice.

“I’m impressed,” Tony says back, and hugs Phil impossibly tighter.  “I love you, Phil.”  He feels the arms encircling him draw their bodies closer to each other.

**“I love you too, Tony.” **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked the ending...felt sorta weird to me but idk. Sorry I took so long to update this. I literally always start stories but never finish them


End file.
